Wake In Winter
by Wednesday Ghost
Summary: Yuuri and Wolfram share a winter night together that changes everything. Eventually Lemon. An ongoing epic romance. Slash. Part Two Up! Are Yuuri's feelings going to change?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Wake in Winter

Author: Morgan

Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!

Genre: Romance, Drama

Raiting: PG-13, eventually NC-17

Summary: Yuuri and Wolfram share a winter night together that changes everything. Eventually NC17. First part of an ongoing epic romance. Slash.

Part One

"We've been separated from the group." Wolfram said between deep breaths, brows knitted together. He was slumped, hands on his knees, sweat beading along his hairline, smudges of dust on his cheeks and hands. He was flushed and his voice was dry as snow collected on his shoulders.

"Aa." Yuuri inhaled slowly and deeply. He matched Wolfram in disarray. They both slumped against the towering trees of the brittle forest, trying desperately to regain their breath. Their lungs were burning, but the air was sharp and cold. It was the dead of winter and snow was beginning to fall in the human forest.

Ambushed by the last human army to oppose New Makoku, the small group of Gwendel, Conrad, Yozak, Yuuri and Wolfram were clearly in hot water. There were many human soldiers, too many to count. Hundreds, by the look of urgency on Conrad's face as he yelled over the shouts and clang of metal for Wolfram to take his majesty and escape. To leave the others to fight.

Yuuri hadn't wanted to go. He was not that sort of king. He wanted to stay, he wanted to fight. He couldn't bring himself to leave his friends behind-

But Wolfram would hear none of it over the din, and grabbed his arm, tearing into a sprint. It was all Yuuri could do to keep up with his fiancé as they hurtled through gray, unfamiliar woodland. Besides, remembering the look on Conrad's face made him wonder if, though his intentions as a king and friend were always so noble, now was not the time to risk his life. After all, as Gwendel often said, his life was not his own. It belonged to New Makoku now.

"Ugh!" Yuuri suddenly groaned, dropping his face into his palms. He ground his teeth in frustration. "This isn't right! We should be back there, helping the others!"

Wolfram fixed his king with an indignant green gaze. "You know that Conrad would never allow you to endanger yourself like that! Even if you are our king, we cannot obey orders that might guarantee your death." There was a fleeting shred of sympathy in those emerald eyes, but it was promptly squashed.

Yuuri was too frustrated to answer. He knew, in any case, and understood- he just didn't like it.

Wolfram snorted at the lack of response and stood up straight. He tried to suppress a sudden shiver, but failed. It was cold- very cold. The temperature had begun to drop right before the attack, and had fallen steadily with the sun as he and Yuuri ran through brush for what had seemed like hours. In truth they had only been running for half an hour, but the pace had disoriented them, along with the thousands of unfamiliar trees, all tall and gray and dead, that had rushed by. They were hopelessly lost, even if they were safe from immediate danger.

Wolfram sat down on a fallen tree trunk, long since turned into a lifeless husk. He brushed new snow off his shoulders and hair. "They'll be fine, Yuuri. Quit pouting. They'll find us soon- Yozak and my brothers are excellent trackers." His voice lacked most of its usual hardness.

Yuuri relented to his perpetual optimism and sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "I know… I know they'll be okay." He rubbed at his nose, too, which was quickly turning as flushed and cold as his pink cheeks. "I just… you know I…"

"Yuuuu-ri. Really. There's nothing to worry about." Wolfram said with feigned finality, trying to convince himself as much as his fiancé.

"I know." Yuuri quietly replied.

They sat like that in the cold for several minutes, each thinking, faces solemn. It felt eerie and disheartening to be in such a situation again, after so many months of burgeoning peace with the human countries. Slowly the snow turned into rain, a freezing rain.

Wolfram noticed that Yuuri had begun to shiver. "Come here, wimp." He said with an expressive roll of the eyes.

"I'm not a-" Yuuri began to automatically respond, but Wolfram was by his side so quickly, draping his own blue uniform jacket across the dark-haired boy's shoulders, that Yuuri found he couldn't even finish his sentence.

"Let's try and find some sort of shelter before we freeze to death." Wolfram said grudgingly as he quietly fumed about his inability to use fire majutsu in the human lands. He could've built them both a fire by now in mere seconds!

It was slow going, now that the temperature had dropped and sitting still for so long and being slowly but surely soaked through had chilled them. The snow was not thick on the ground, but the rain was freezing and stinging, and both boys walked stiffly and warily. Being huddled under one jacket hindered their pace as well.

Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was blind luck (probably the latter), but Wolfram's sharp eyes spotted a dark opening between the sprawling roots of two trees. They ducked below snow-laden branches and stumbled under the rift. A dark tunnel led down into the earth, a canopy of exposed roots protecting the mouth from the wind and snow. Stepping gingerly inside, Wolfram, who went first, scouted for signs of occupancy. There were a few scraps and remains, old dried droppings- it was obvious that the furry tenant had vacated some time ago.

"Ah, it's clear." Yuuri said from behind him, dripping ice-cold water. He gazed about the large cave-like tunnel with childish fascination. "This is just like junior high summer camp!" He exclaimed through chattering teeth.

"What?" Wolfram asked, turning to stare at his fiancé in mild confusion.

"Ano, nevermind…. Ah ha ha." Yuuri grinned sheepishly, then rubbed his hands over his arms as another batch of shivers coursed through his thin frame. Trails of rainwater sluiced down his cheeks.

"Here." Wolfram laid his jacket out on the ground. It was damp. All of their clothes were soaked with snow and freezing rain. He then stripped off his shirt and laid it down over the jacket. "We need to get out of these clothes before we get sick. Lay down."

Yuuri stared at Wolfram then laughed as he shivered, and sounded an awfully lot like he was hiccupping. "What! Why? Can't you just make a fire?"

"This is human territory, you idiot!" Wolfram quipped. "Besides, everything is wet! We're soaked to the bone!"

"Ah…" Yuuri contemplated as his limbs began to go numb. "Ah. Oh well. If it can't be helped."

He joined Wolfram on the ground at the back of the tunnel, sitting down on the jacket. They were both shivering and Yuuri couldn't feel his face or fingers. Wolf was already pulling off his boots and socks, and made gestures to show that Yuuri should do the same.

Yuuri tugged off his jacket and shirt, but didn't get much farther as he began to grow dizzy. His heartbeat was slowing down and he couldn't seem to command his hands anymore. His vision swam and he slumped.

Wolfram made a startled noise and caught him, worry in his features. He suppressed his own shivers and began to peel the rest of his fiancé's wet clothes off.

Yuuri gave the blonde a skeptical look through his hazy vision, but relented to his being undressed by the boy as his body was racked with too violent of tremors to do it properly. He felt his blood starting to churn more and more sluggishly, as if he was freezing over in the cold hard ground. Wolfram seemed to be dealing with the caustic weather much more adeptly than him, so he gave his trust to the other boy, knowing that Wolfram had probably been trained, as a soldier, to deal with these sorts of situations. Besides, he was so sleepy he could hardly think straight.

"It'll be okay, Yuuri." Wolfram whispered more to himself than to his king as he laid Yuuri down on the jackets and stretched out beside him. "The others will come for us soon. We'll be back at the castle in no time." He tugged the driest pieces of clothing over their trembling bodies, tucking it in around the edges.

Vaguely, in some last aware part of his mind, Yuuri tried to react to the embarrassingly physical position he was now in. He wanted to blush and pull away, put some sort of respectable, manly distance between them, but he was just too cold. So cold.

His body felt like a frozen dead weight, with limbs and fingers and a face that he couldn't feel or move. So, even as embarrassing as it was, he was secretly relieved when Wolfram turned onto his side and pressed his chilly body up against Yuuri's. Yuuri could just barely tell that Wolfram was blushing, but he knew that the boy was doing what he knew was best to save his Maou's life.

Wolfram drew Yuuri close under their makeshift covers, entangling their legs and wrapping his arms around the other boy.

The heat wasn't immediate, but it came. Yuuri couldn't keep his eyes open, but even in his state of half-sleep, he could feel the warmth of Wolfram's body infusing into his own. It was the slow beat of a heart pushing a gradual rhythm back into his blood. It was a small but welcome fire to the freezing tremors that had shaken him earlier.

Half-asleep, Yuuri murmured in contentment and shifted closer to Wolfram, seeking more of that shared warmth. He pushed his body up against the blonde's, aligning them perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle, and tucked his head into Wolfram's shoulder, then sighed.

Wolfram flushed, but held his fiancé tighter, under the thin cover of their clothing. He was extremely aware of Yuuri's skin against his own, damp from rain and smooth, and the soft mass between Yuri's legs, which pressed against his thigh. He rested his cheek against the dark head and sighed, eyes fluttering closed. Yuuri's hair smelled like soap and wildwood and baseball gloves. He inhaled deeply and felt tears prick at his eyes. He fought them back and replaced them with an unflinching determination to do everything he could to keep Yuuri safe and warm until the others arrived. He knew Weller would find them sooner or later. He trusted his brother more than the older man knew.

There was the shrill whistle of wind at the mouth of the cave. Snow had begun to fall again. Wolfram drew Yuuri closer, as close as they could be, and drifted off to sleep.

:----------:

When Wolfram woke, it was slowly and peacefully. He had not jumped at some sudden noise, nor reached immediately for his sword. Instead he opened his eyes and registered immediately the warmth in his arms, the soft smooth skin against his own, the slow and steady breath against his neck, the mousy dark hair on his cheek. He didn't flush or flinch, simply lay there with Yuuri in his arms, watching the rain fall softly outside the mouth of the cave.

It had grown dark, and was certainly night. The snow had stopped but the rain still fell, albeit if lightly. Wolfram wondered how the search for them was going, if Yozak and the rest were able to pick up any signs in the melted sludge that was surely the forest floor. They had left no footprints in the snow, as it had all melted by now.

Wolfram pushed such urgencies from his mind, and, although reluctant to leave such warmth, began to pull away from Yuuri. He was hungry and needed to see what, if any, provisions they might have had on them before the attacks. He was sure he had some sort of food in his jacket pockets.

"Stay." The voice was small and faint and soft, slurred with sleep. Wolfram paused, looking down at his fiancé, whom he had assumed to be still sleeping.

Yuuri's eyes were still closed, but his right hand tightened on Wolfram's wrist, and his left, which was splayed across the blonde's chest, curled into a fist. "Don't go."

Wolfram hesitated, then lay back down and reached up a hand to stroke those soft, damp, dark locks of hair. "Okay. I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay." Yuuri echoed in a sleepy, childish voice, then relaxed against the other boy's chest and fell back into slumber.

Wolfram watched the even breathing of his king for a few minutes, then lay his head back and looked up to the dim ceiling of their shelter, a tangle of dead, entwined roots. He felt something sharp throb in his chest, and he swallowed heavily, brows knitting together. This was almost painful, this intimate embrace, this tangling of their limbs and aligning of their skin. Wolfram knew it was temporary, knew it was merely for survival. When the night cleared, when the others found them, this would end right here, in this cave, and Wolfram would return to the pointless, unending pursuit of a love that would never be his. The story would be told and Yuuri would probably laugh and blush and be teased by Yozak, while Conrad looked on with an endeared smile. Wolfram would be yet again left behind, standing among thousands of others in the wake of Yuuri's all-encompassing friendliness. Not any more special that every other Mazoku and human that Yuuri loved- equally. As their king. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the end, he was nothing.

The pain was not physical, but it hurt just as much as any other injury he'd ever received. Lying there listening to Yuuri's soft breathing, and the patter of rain on tree limbs and dead leaves outside, Wolfram thought of his fiancé's earlier words: _Stay… don't go_, and knew he'd probably never hear them again. His love for the Maou was the biggest joke in all of New Makoku; everyone knew that it was unrequited.

Why did he still go on? Wolfram pressed his cheek to the soft black locks and stroked them softly. _Because of this_. Rare moments, stolen here and there, when he realized that even his unrequited love was the only love he'd ever truly feel.

Wolfram knew he could never love another, even though a little of his heart broke every day. That was why he put on his boisterous outer shell, his mask of nonchalance, his façade of jealousy. He had never felt anything as powerful before as the love he nurtured for the boy that slept in his arms, and the extraordinary king that he would follow to the ends of the earth, no matter how many boats he had to ride on.

:----------:

The morning dawned early, and it was the soft sounds of rain still lightly falling that woke the two boys. They drifted out of sleep, eyes fluttering open, still entangled, melded together like one in warmth and rhythm. They lay in silence for a long time, not wanting to move, despite the situation, which should have been more awkward- but strangely, wasn't. Yuuri had pushed aside what embarrassment he'd had left, and had long since accepted that they had simply done the only thing they could do to keep from getting sick and possibly dying from the conditions. And it had worked so well, that he found he didn't even care how strange their situation was- he was so comfortable and warm that he'd even forgotten about the ambush, and was content to lay still in Wolfram's embrace.

Eventually they were both fully awake; but something had changed. Something in the air, in the way they lay entwined as one, in the way they had spent the night sharing their warmth against the bitter cold, had left both boys drifting in a new kind of consciousness. They were still, like the dewy air, and while they were both very aware of their surroundings, they felt no desire, no compulsion, to react to anything.

Whereas normally Wolfram would have been out of bed dressing and then making the rounds, and Yuuri later being woken by Greta and dragged about and outside for breakfast, they instead lay comfortably together, unmoving, simply breathing, untouched in their cocoon by the cold winter air. Yuuri, with his head against Wolfram's chest, listened to the heartbeat and the soft pattern of breath. Wolfram closed his eyes and did the same. It had been so long since either of them had been held, and neither had remembered it could feel so good.

The stillness, the closeness, the concentration on each other's breath- they began to fall into meditation. Yuuri remembered something his grandfather, a shrine-keeper, had once told him about seeking peace of body and mind to live a full, healthy life. "Once you achieve a light meditative state, your mind will automatically search for a soothing focus. If you allow it, your body will harmonize itself with that focus, your breath will synchronize with it, and your mind will clear. Hold the peace you find there."

Yuuri finally understood what the old man had meant. It didn't even seem odd to him that the focus he had found was the rise and fall of Wolfram's chest against his own.

Wolfram was experiencing the same thing. His breath was synchronizing with Yuuri's, and not even his trained soldier's alertness was a match for the soft rhythm that engulfed his senses. They began to slip deeper into their shared state of quiet existence.

As he drifted farther down into the relaxed, meditative state, Yuuri found that while he was aware of everything around him, he also felt separated from it, apart from it, as if all that mattered was the rise and fall of Wolfram's chest and the quiet intake and outtake of his breath. Yuuri felt every clump of dirt and pebble beneath him, felt the slight movement of each of the hairs on his forehead where Wolfram's breath stirred them, and the twin throb of the pulse in the blonde's neck against his shoulder, and his half-hard cock against Yuuri's stomach.

For Yuuri, and undoubtedly for Wolfram too, there was a wonderful nothingness in his mind - no anger, no fear, no expectation, no thoughts coming much too fast; nothing but the unfamiliar sensation of synchronicity, of absolute peace.

They stayed that way for a very long time, until the sounds of birds greeting the morning broke the silence.

:----------:

It was not long after the boys had finally stirred from their relaxed state to stretch in the bright morning light and relieve themselves as the rain slowly stopped, that Yozak, Conrad, and Gwendel arrived. A little beat-up but with nothing broken, the three older men stumbled upon the cave right after Yuuri and Wolfram had finished dressing in silence. They had a little food with them, and the quiet party split it up and ate what they had. It was going to be a long, tiring journey back to New Makoku, with no good results to show for their strenuous trip.

As Yuuri listened to Yozak recount their amazing escape from the ambush and Gwendel's prowess in building a shelter from fallen tree limbs to rest before the search, he couldn't help but steal a glance at Wolfram, who sat quietly cross-legged to his left, chewing on a piece of dried fruit. The blonde was unusually quiet, strangely withdrawn. Yuuri still blushed a little to think about what they had shared last night, and didn't really want to tell the others about their unorthodox method of staying warm- and Wolfram was obviously respecting his wishes by remaining silent. Yuuri found himself glad that his fiancé seemed unconcerned about sharing those details, seeing as Yuuri would much rather keep those to himself. He knew that what they had done was basic survival, but he still wasn't sure how to react, on a more personal level.

They had slept nude together all night, entwined like lovers, then shared a meditation that morning, which might easily be considered more intimate than the bare embrace. Yuuri had never before done those things with anyone, and he never thought that he'd do them with Wolfram, fiancé or not- he still thought of the blonde as merely a good friend, nothing else. And was simply playing along with the "engagement" thing until… well, until Wolfram had had his fill, maybe.

Yuuri stared at his feet as he ate some of the bread Yozak had brought. He knew from his Buddhist grandfather that while it was hard enough to reach a state of perfect meditation, it was far more difficult to do so with someone else. You had to truly, deeply trust that person. This revelation turned an invisible wheel in Yuuri's mind, and something changed in him at the moment- something fundamental about the way he thought of his fiancé. The Maou didn't know it yet, but it was going to alter the course of the future he had imagined for himself quite drastically indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Wake in Winter

Author: Morgan

Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou!

Genre: Romance, Drama

Rating: PG-13, eventually NC-17

Summary: Yuuri and Wolfram share a winter night together that changes everything. Eventually NC17. First part of an ongoing epic romance. Slash.

Part Two

Back at the castle, safe and thrust once again into massive amounts of paperwork and subtle intrigue (spawned by gossiping maids), Yuuri found time passing normally again. A few times he and Ken returned to their world, played baseball on their small team, and enjoyed Miko's homemade curry- but not for long: the Original King obviously intended that the largest amounts of their time be allotted to New Makoku.

So a few days went by, then a few weeks, then, before Yuuri knew it, a few months had flown by, and he had mostly forgotten about the whole cave-incident with Wolfram. Wolfram was still his usual self, boisterous and loud- if a bit more subdued than usual. There was one thing, however, that Yuuri simply could not bring himself to forget, especially at night, when New Makoku was quiet, and slept- leaving their king to lie restless.

Since the first day of their return, something had changed. Yuuri couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew it in the way his chest tightened as he lay in bed, listening to the sound of Wolfram breathe.

The first night had been awkward. Yuuri had gone to bed early, tired, and Wolfram had purposefully stayed out later, talking with his brothers of the ambush. When the door to Yuuri's room finally opened, he feigned sleep. The air was heavy with silence, and though his eyes were closed, Yuuri could feel Wolfram standing in the doorway, looking towards the bed.

The Maou had no idea why he was so tense. It had just been a… a type of survival tactic. Wolfram's first duty was to his king, to protect his life. As strange as it had been, Yuuri knew it was common sense. But as person, a teenage boy, he was still unsure of how to react to what had happened. He had managed to avoid Wolfram's gaze since the others found them, and it seemed that the stubborn, still-embarrassed teenage part of his mind was determined to keep it up tonight.

Eventually Wolfram closed the door behind him, and the click of his heels on the floor crossed to the dresser, where he was surely changing. Yuuri remained still in the bed, let his lashes flutter as he listened expectantly. The rustle of cotton meant that Wolf was in his nightgown by now, and then there was the soft clang of a sword in scabbard being hung on the wall. Morgif, disturbed from sleep, made a slight moaning noise as his nighttime partner swung slowly on the wall beside him, then went back to sleep. The soft echo of feet padding on the floor drew closer to the bed, then Yuuri sucked in his breath as the mattress dipped down. He was still tense.

Wolfram lay quietly for a moment- a moment that turned into several minutes. Yuuri could feel those emerald eyes on him, on his neck, the back of his head, his tanned shoulders. Tiny hairs raised on the nape of his neck. Wolf was watching him.

A sigh with far too much sadness. Then, a minute later, the gentle sound of sleep, of blurred, even breathing.

Yuuri rolled delicately off his side and breathed a sigh of relief. He let a hand fall to his forehead, risked a glance at his slumbering fiancé. Wolfram lay haphazard under a thin single sheet, blonde hair, gleaming in the moonlight, fanned out over his flushed cheeks. He really did look like an angel, as much as Yuuri choked on that thought- knowing that the blonde was anything but.

Yuuri stared at the ceiling. He supposed he was glad that Wolf had gone to sleep and not said anything about last night… had not confronted Yuuri about it. Glad that the blonde intended to pretend it had never happened for the sake of their pride. Right? Yuuri's brow creased in contemplation. This was too complicated and weird of a matter for him, a normal baseball-loving guy, to think too much about. He should just get some sleep, long journey or not, he was sure Conrad would be up bright and early for some running and sword practice in the morning.

Yuuri lay back and closed his eyes. A cool nighttime breeze fluttered by, raising goosebumps on his arm and reminding him of the chill of the cave that night. Spurred by memory, he instinctively listened for the sound of Wolfram's even breathing, and settled on it, slow and rhythmic and soft. Just like that strange morning, he listened to it as he slipped into a state of half-sleep, and let his own breath slow to match it. Soon, even as he sipped further and further into sleep, the room grew still, and nighttime was just that- a color of the sky, dark like the dream-world just beyond his eyelids. He felt every tiny hair on his body move with the breeze, felt each leaf sway outside his window, knew intimately the sound of air rushing over Wolf's lips, the heat of his skin a foot away in the bed, was acutely aware of the feel of cotton sheets on his weary body.

With his chest rising in perfect synch to Wolfram's, Yuuri slipped deep into the second most peaceful sleep of his life.

:----------:

It went on like this for months. During the day, the boys lived normally. Yuuri practiced sword fighting with Conrad, made amusing grimaces every time Morgif went after a passing maid. He ate breakfast with Wolf and Greta, studied the history of New Makoku and learned more and more about his magic, his majutsu, with Günter, and spent hours attending to (dealing with!) matters of state with Gwendel at his side, solemn as ever. A few halfhearted attempts at action and adventure were contributed to by many parties including humans, the Original King, and Aldeberto alike, but the castle remained mostly quiet.

Only the nights were out of the ordinary, Yuuri often thought. Or so he thought at first, because over the weeks and months since their return from that fateful ambush, the young Maou had grown quite accustomed to this night-time ritual of meditation.

Wolfram noticed it the third night in. He wasn't quite asleep when, out of his sheer habit of being attuned to Yuuri's behavior, he noticed that the dark-haired boy, as he slipped into sleep, had matched his breathing with Wolfram's, and that Wolf's heart seemed to beat to the rhythm of his king's. He lay listening, stunned by the sudden flow of memories from that night, and entranced by the returning feelings of absolute peace that seemed to envelope the two boys in the bed. After two nights of thinking Yuuri was ignoring him, the realization that they were once again sharing a half-sleep state of shared mediation hit Wolf like a sand bear full-throttle. If he hadn't been falling into such a tranquilizing state of mediation and relaxation, his heart would have been hammering itself to pieces. But as sleep slowly and stealthily claimed him, Wolf didn't have the time or energy to contemplate this development. He simply let himself go, fading as if he was floating in a stream, as if his heart was beating underwater, sluggishly, in slow motion. He could almost feel the blood that pumped through his veins, and hear Yuuri's. They seemed to churn through sleep together.

:----------:

Each morning the boys awoke in tangent, still melded in meditation, almost connected though they didn't touch. Every dawn they would lay listening to each other's breath, aware of each trill of a bird outside, aware of every drop of morning dew that lay across the sheets, the fine sheen of cool moisture in the air, the twisting of the cotton sheets around their bodies. It took several minutes to come out of this deep, undisturbed state of meditation, but once they fully awoke, neither could ever remember having slept so thoroughly and peacefully in their lives.

They didn't speak of it, even though both Yuuri and Wolfram knew they were sharing something unusual, something to be kept secret. They would rise and go about their daily routines, and nobody in the castle knew any differently.

Conrad is the first to notice the changes, but he doesn't bring it up. Murata, the second to notice with his unfailingly sharp intuition, is more bold with his schoolmate and king.

"Ne, Yuuri… something's different."

Yuuri, flushed from the heated bath water, turned to squint at the Great Sage through clouds of gentle steam. "Ehhh? Whadda you mean?"

Ken shrugged. He looked less calculating without his gleaming glasses on; he looked more his current body's age. "You seem to be more alert these days, more relaxed. You're no longer walking around tripping over stuff because your head's in the clouds. I guess that's what I mean." Murata grinned in his usual sly manner. "You seem more calm and refreshed."

"Ah." Yuuri, clueless of course, smiled in his good-natured way. "Maybe I'm just growing into the shoes of the Maou, like I was meant to." He said with sincerity. Dark bangs clung wetly to his forehead.

"Na, maybe." Murata murmured. "But you know, I've noticed Sir Von Bielefelt seems different too. He's not as rash… it's as if he's mellowed out."

At the mention of Wolfram, and with his friend connecting their behavior, Yuuri's oblivious, innocent smile faltered. "Ah… I'm sure Wolfram has… has many things on his mind." Yuuri offered, then sank a bit lower into the steaming water, blowing soft bubbles as he avoided his friend's gaze.

Murata watched the young Maou for a moment with unabashed curiosity. Theories, speculations, and of course, perverted musings flitted through his mind. He was _definitely_ going to find out what had happened between the Prince and the Maou. Nothing short of severe head trauma could stop him and his legendary curiosity.

:----------:

Many more months passed. Yuuri and Wolfram spent each day going through the motions of normal, everyday life, and while Wolf still hounded Yuuri about cheating occasionally, he cherished the fact of where the dark-haired boy spent each night, despite that his love continued on unrequited. Ever since that night in the cave, when Wolfram had realized that it would probably always be so, he had contented himself to serve his Maou well, and enjoy his friend's company. There was nothing else he could do. In this way, those nights of perfect meditation became priceless to Wolfram. What he didn't know was that to Yuuri, they were too.

Almost a year had passed since that fateful winter night, and so had Yuuri's 16th birthday. And just as he had once told his friend Murata, he was certainly growing into the Maou's shoes. While Yuuri still maintained his trademark stubbornness and silliness, along with his famous good nature, he also had more discipline, and more skill with the sword. Wolfram stood back and watched as Yuuri started to become a man.

Only once in the past year had they attempted to talk about the meditation. Wolfram had mentioned it to Yuuri one night as they sat alone under the stars. Greta, now 8, had fallen asleep with her head in Yuuri's lap. Yuuri slowly stroked her hair with a kind look on his face. Wolf watched in contentment. When the blonde had looked at the stars, they had seemed so vast and bright in the velvet sky, and the moon, round and milky, had drawn his throat closed in a powerful emotion. The moment had felt right. He turned to Yuuri.

"Yuuri…" He started, and trailed off when the dark-haired boy paused in his smoothing of his daughter's auburn curls to look at his fiancé.

"Ah." The Maou acknowledged. Wolfram swallowed heavily and did not continue immediately. Yuuri tilted his head to the side a bit. "Wolfram?"

Wolfram drew up his courage and smiled softly at Yuuri, who was a bit taken aback by the sincerity and tenderness of the emotions in the blonde's delicate features. "I'm really glad. I'm glad we can share… ah… at night, when we…" he fumbled for words, flushing slightly.

"I… um!" Yuuri jumped at the reference. He knew what Wolf was about to bring up, and he was suddenly very, _very_ uncomfortable. They had never spoken of it before. If he was to admit that he liked it…! To acknowledge that it was happening…!

The thought made Yuuri panic and he cut the rest of Wolf's words off with a nervous slew of excuses. "I um, I need to get Greta to bed, she has lessons early in the morning, and we should be getting some sleep too, we ride out for Big Shimaron tomorrow at dawn, and, and-"

Wolfram's face, which had fallen into a dark weariness at the start of Yuuri's rushed words, was hidden by a curtain of his hair. He looked up now, trying desperately to feign a normal expression. "It's alright, I'll help you." He stood and picked up the slumbering Greta, holding her in his arms as Yuuri jumped up and distractedly brushed invisible dirt and blades of grass from his pants. "Let's head back to the castle."

The next morning, as they mounted their horses and prepared for a long ride, Wolfram watched Yuuri quietly. It didn't take long for the dark-haired boy to feel those intense green eyes on him and turn. "Ne? Wolfram? What's wrong?" Yuuri asked in his typical selflessness, having already forgotten about the previous night's confrontation of sorts.

"Are you ashamed of it?" Wolfram asked out of the blue, in a moment of true seriousness. He had thought about his fiancé's reaction all night long.

"Eh?" Yuuri asked, realization beginning to creep up on him.

Wolfram tried to summon up his usual wall of anger, his façade of arrogance, to protect his heart. But it was no good- he was in too deep. He couldn't find the false self, and in its place, his eyes filled with a ghost of the pain and sadness he had felt on that winter night. "Are you ashamed of what we do at night?"

Yuuri's first coherent thought was not something mature, or even pertaining to what Wolfram was talking about. It was simply, _I really hope no one heard that. It sounds _really _bad._

Wolfram steeled his face to the emotions, and fleeting, they were gone. "If you wish it so, I will no longer sleep in your room. If you do not like it…" he was trembling. "If you hate it, I… I…"

Yuuri's second coherent thought was that he couldn't remember ever seeing such sadness and hurt in the blonde's eyes. He felt something change in him, something twang like fingers on violin strings, something deep. Something in his heart shifted, if only slightly- but the seed had been planted.

And now it began to grow.

At the sight of Wolfram trembling slightly with the raging emotions inside him, fighting to keep them at bay, Yuuri's compassionate and selfless side, his stubborn kindness, beat out his gut reaction of panicking and fleeing emotional confrontation. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

"No, I don't hate it!" He said in gentle frustration, searching for the right words. "It's just… it's embarrassing…" The teenage boy in him was cringing. "I… I do…" This was like pulling teeth- "I do like it." He finally got out, and avoided Wolfram's gaze. The blonde's whole face had just lightened, his pursed lips parting in subtle elation. "It's hard to say, because… we're both, you know, men…"  
Yuuri sneaked a glance at Wolfram, and felt the tension leave his shoulders as he saw a beaming face smiling back at him. "But I do like it. In fact," he became suddenly sheepish, and picked at his horse's reins, "I'm not sure I could sleep the same without it."

He didn't have anything else to say, nor the courage to do so, but it was enough. Wolfram's parted lips closed suddenly in a truly happy smile, and he straightened up in his saddle. Conrad called them both to front of the group. They nudged their horses forward, and spent the rest of the trip in mostly friendly silence.

Of course, as time passed, Wolfram knew that Yuuri still thought only of him as a friend, and as much as it hurt him to know that his love would never be requited, he was happy enough just sharing the simple things with his Maou. Simple things like friendly bickering, meals together, playing with Greta, riding out to see New Makoku's subjects together, practicing swords. The nights in perfect, matching rhythms of sleep and breathing and stillness. These Wolfram treasured.

One bright, sunny day in New Makoku, many were gathered in an excited, noisy buzzing of color. There was the smell of good food, the sound of local music, and the beat of dancing. It was Greta's 9th birthday, and Yuuri had thrown his precious daughter a wonderful party.

The day went wonderfully, with Gwendel having made the cake himself, and Conrad having constructed something he called a 'piñata,' which he claimed was from Yuuri's world, which made Greta even more excited. There were games and Mazoku traditional dancing, which Yuuri couldn't stop laughing at to do properly, and a pie fight where Wolfram purposefully let Greta win by nailing him in the face twice.

That night they were all exhausted. Covered in pie, Yuuri and Wolfram retired to the bath together.

"Ah, that was the best party I've ever thrown." Yuuri said in contentment as he lazily washed the remaining cream from his dark hair.

Wolfram watched the Maou in amusement. "Idiot, have you ever even thrown a party before? I bet it was only your mother having them for you when you were a child." He laughed at the mental image of a little Yuuri in pigtails and a party hat.

"Hey!" Yuuri defended his honor. "I threw one for my brother when he got into his top school. And, and for my friend in the fifth grade…" He trailed off sheepishly, and Wolfram started laughing.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter as long as Greta had a wonderful time, ne?" Wolfram reached over to muss up the Maou's hair. "Which she did."

"Yeah!" Yuuri nodded sagely. "I'll throw her one again next year."

"Okay." Wolfram agreed, and they soaked for a bit longer in the hot bath water companionably.

:----------:

That night, sated and warm and sleepy from the hot bath, the two returned to Yuuri's room and changed quickly into pajamas. Climbing into bed, Yuuri curled up under the covers, sighing softly, and Wolfram sprawled out, silky blonde hair spreading over the pillows. Out of habit, they each grew quiet, and as the night breeze passed over them, looked for each other's breath and heartbeats.

Yuuri stirred, and eyelashes fluttering, turned onto his side so that he was facing Wolfram, so that he could better seek out the other boy's breathing. As he turned, his hand, curled into a ball, fell against Wolfram's. His eyes opened slightly and he started to pull his hand away in a natural reaction- but Wolfram, half-asleep and warm, curled his fingers around Yuuri's fist before the other boy could pull them away, then mumbled something in his sleep.

Yuuri opened his eyes all the way and looked cautiously at his fiancé, as if suspecting him of trying something funny. But Wolfram lay sprawled like an angel shot down from above, mouth parted and cheeks flushed in slumber, golden hair all over the place. Yuuri watched him curiously, eyes trailing over the silken locks and lashes. He slowly and hesitantly uncurled his fingers, and laced them with Wolf's, pressing their palms together. Wolfram murmured again in his sleep and unconsciously pulled the dark-haired boy closer.

Unsure of what to do, but unwilling to wake Wolfram and disturb his sleep, and especially unwilling to have to explain their hands when the blonde awoke, Yuuri complied with the sleeping but still demanding prince and scooted closer on the bed. He lay on his side with shoulder touching Wolfram's, and one leg thrown over Wolf's. His breath brushed over the blonde's pale neck, and their fingers fit together so well… it was like pieces of a puzzle, Yuuri mused.

In the back of his mind, he knew it was strange- if anyone should walk in, what they would see- but still, the closeness, the slight touching, the curled fingers… it reminded Yuuri of that night, and although he blushed thinking of it, he knew that the sensation of sleeping like that, in someone's warm embrace, to wake in those arms- had been something huge for him, something he'd never experienced before, would never forget. It had awakened a part of him that once sleeping, was now starting to stir. The unwelcome desire to feel that again.

Yuuri knew that something like that would never happen again, the skin-to-skin embrace, the night of being safe and warm and sheltered in another's arms. But… though he would never admit it, this was nice. This closeness to Wolfram. He forced himself to think of it as a friendly thing. Like their meditations… just an expression of their trust in each other. Good friends.

Thinking about it this way kept all other thoughts at bay. Thoughts like how good it had felt to feel another's skin on his own, to feel Wolf's breath on his neck, his heart beating right up against his own, Wolfram's eyes that winter morning, so full of an emotion that frightened him in its intensity and sincerity. By thinking of what he and the blonde shared as a sign of their friendship and only that, Yuuri was effectively blocking out every single thing that his body had been trying to tell him it yearned for.

And, snuggled close to Wolfram, their breath falling into rhythm and their hearts beating as one under a perfect velvet sky, Yuuri fell asleep and dreamed of nothing but illusions.

/to be continued


End file.
